chief export: dismay

it’s sunday. i slept a lot this weekend as i always do. all week ‘oh, i’ll get caught up on the weekend’. all weekend ‘oh, i’ll get caught up on weeknights’.

too tired to do anything too awake to sleep

i don’t have the time to do all the things i want to do with my life. so i spend my time focusing on nothings. buying toys to fill the void because there’s never enough time to do what i want.

but i never earn enough money to buy everything i want.

and even so i’m working too much and i never do anything.

and i’ve HAD the time off, the unemployment. i never do anything on my days off, so can i really honestly say that i’d ever do anything if i didn’t have to work for a living?

maybe i’m better off just working, knowing that i may not be fulfilled, but at least i’m paying the bills.

how long can you live like that? how long can you go before you break?

i go out and i do things with friends, we see movies, we get food, we hang out. nothing accomplished, just having fun and enjoying good company. and it’s good.

but then i go home and i’ve lost my saturday. not that i would have done anything, but the potential for doing something is gone. sunday is a loss because it’s sunday and nobody ever does anything worthwhile on sunday.

just those assholes in high school who were good at everything, involved in everything, got all the awards at the senior awards assembly, and seemed to be friends with everyone.

except you.

you were always on the sidelines, you were always going home, alone, and being alone. you had friends, but none of them were cool either.

you think back on that and you wonder how the hell they did it.

you look back now and wish you’d been more involved. you wish you’d done more, had more drive. done all the usual high school things, all the normal stuff that everyone else did years ago, but some of it you still haven’t.

then you slowly remember why you hated those people back then, and you remember that you knew at the time that you could have done more, but you didn’t want to.

you knew it was pointless. you knew that ultimately, five years later, you may not have a college degree, you may not have dozens of certificates from high school and college saying you Did Things Right, that you were Involved, that you existed. you know that you weren’t super popular or successful or driven.

but at least you were happy. you knew what you wanted.

didn’t you?

don’t you?

did you ever, really? what have you got that’s so great? they may not know any better than you what they want in life, they may not have it all figured out, but they have it better than you, don’t they? they have degrees, they have significant others, they have good jobs, they have money, they have a future. they have potential.

what have you got? you’ve got your dreams. you have your goals, your desires, and you’re not doing anything about them. you don’t know where to start. you don’t know how to manage your time, how to make yourself do the things you so desperately want to.

you spend all your time doing nothing, and you have nothing to show for it. they spend all their time doing nothing too. none of it means anything. but they have that nice house you want. that girl you always liked but never had the nerve to ask out. the body you don’t have the energy to maintain.

you think about the future and you don’t know what to do.

you think, they don’t have it so great. their lives are meaningless pablum. i don’t want that.

what do you want?

you want to write. you want to create, to entertain, to be known for your work.

you want a girl. someone who gives a damn about the things you give a damn about. not just someone who tolerates your eccentricities, but someone who shares them. who understands. who cares.

you want peace. quiet. happiness. independance. to be creative, to be happy and healthy and free.

how do you achieve that?

you could give up all the things you like, put that money into rent, food, independence. tie yourself down to a job, to that lifestyle. spend your nights and weekends grinding at the art table and on your computer until you achieve Success. what defines success? can you be happy just doing what you wanted? or do you have to be able to make a living at it?

you could go to art school. rack up thousands of dollars of debt. make everyone happy. they all want you to go to school, because school is potential. school is the prospect of a job, a future, a career. maybe the right career. maybe not. it’s better than your day job. isn’t it?

where will you be in four years? ten? twenty? will you be a dropout, working a dead-end job, wondering why you never bothered to try? will you be a cog, grinding into the machine, wondering why you settled for this? will you be dead? will you be happy? will you be alone?

will anyone care?

do you even care?

i can’t keep going like this. i’m going to burn out. maybe i already have.

i work too much. i don’t have the time i want to get anything done. i have so much to do it’s overwhelming.

i don’t work enough. i don’t get paid enough to buy the things i want and the things i need. it’s never enough.

i’m a success. i have a job i like and i get decent pay and i can support myself.

i’m a failure. i’m stuck in a job and the only potential improvement will drive me mad. i’m failing my dreams, i’m letting myself down. i’m lazy and i’m fat and i’m alone and i’m unhappy.

i’m too scared to just quit and give my dreams a honest shot on their own. i don’t think i could do it. i want to cut myself free entirely but that much freedom would overwhelm me. i need some structure.

i’m too cheap to cut back to part time, keep this job, put four days a week into art. i don’t want to give up my cushy lifestyle. i don’t want to give up the possibility of independance.

i can’t reconcile this life with the ideal one in my head. i can’t see a way out and none of my options present an easy solution.

something must be done or this life will be the death of me.